Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Serbia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Spoonie Gee,
Tubeway Army,
Vladislav Delay,
the Slits,
Al Stewart,
The Black Dice,
Ultravox,
Black Flag,
Nico,
The Fugs,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Lower 48,
Mary Jane Girls,
In Retrospect,
Marvin Gaye,
Sixth Finger,
The Standells,
the Normal,
Laurel Aitken,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Popol Vuh,
Black Moon,
the Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
Charles Mingus,
Eurythmics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maurizio,
Joey Negro,
Parry Music,
Ohio Players,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pierre Henry,
Leonard Cohen,
Siglo XX,
Motorama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blancmange,
Echospace,
Morten Harket,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Excepter,
Minny Pops,
The Mojo Men,
Banda Bassotti,
These Immortal Souls,
Piero Umiliani,
Rekid,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thompson Twins,
Junior Murvin,
Ronan,
Sam Rivers,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Hood,
The Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.